Sea of Darkness
by hello2708
Summary: AU. Reki is a young orphan without any siblings. His mother died while giving birth to him and his father disappeared shortly after her death, leaving an enormous pile of money and six dark-type Pokemon for Reki in his wake. Years later, when Reki is 12 years old, he sets out on a journey with his full team of dark-types and discovers who his father is. Who will it be? No Lemon!


A.N:

Hey wassup doods its hello2708 here and this is my first fanfic. It is about the travels of a mysterious OC. Enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKEMON (sadly)**

**Prologue**

**Reki's POV**

I narrowed my eyes and ferociously glared at the boy who had just spoken. His insult resounded in my ears.

"Emo."

_(hello2708: I have nothing against emos! My bff is an emo! I repeat: I have nothing against emos!)_

My neck was stiff from looking up at the bully, who was twice my age. He jabbed a finger at my face.

"Are you the Emo kid?"

My vicious glare hardened- if that was possible- and my eyes narrowed to slits without a single trace of fear.

"If an 'Emo kid' is a person who simply enjoys dressing in black clothes and observing the fascinating specimen of dark type Pokémon, then yes, I certainly am." I spoke calmly and with the intellect of someone twice his age, though I was twice as young and twice as small as he. My seething eyes betrayed my composed demeanor, revealing to the observant that I was not shying away from a fight; rather, I was looking for one. I yearned to prove to these pitiful wannabes that I was much more than just an 'Emo kid.'

"You'd better stay out of my way, shrimp," he leered at me.

"What did I ever do to you?" I snarled.

"You embarrassed my friend and stole my Charmeleon. Where is he?"

"He challenged me to a battle, and was fool enough to lose. That was his doing, not mine. Also, if I'm not mistaken, that is your Charmeleon's Pokeball." As catcalls and whoops sounded behind me, I raised by eyebrows in amusement as he blushed, flustered, stuttered and grabbed the Pokeball that I was pointing to. He unclipped it from his belt and held it up. "This?"

"Yes, that. Open it so that everyone knows that you are a pitiful liar afraid of a five-year-old boy."

He uneasily pressed the button. Sure enough, the Charmeleon appeared. More catcalls. The boy glanced uneasily at his friends behind him, who just shrugged. The boy went to his last resort.

"I challenge you to a battle!"

More gasps, more catcalls, more whoops, more cheers.

"I accept your challenge!"

Silence.

Then laughter.

"Who does he think he is?"

"He's joking."

"You've got to be kidding me."

The boy shook his head in laughter. I spoke up.

"One on One?"

"Y-Yes." He backed up to his spot on the battlefield, still shaking with laughter.

"You will be using your Charmeleon, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Go Zorua!"

My sneaky Zorua appeared on the battlefield, energized and more than ready for a fight.

"Charmeleon, use Scratch!"

"Dodge it!"

As if taunting the Charmeleon, my Zorua sidestepped with ease and laughed when the Charmeleon stretched its claws and growled threateningly.

"Scratch again!"

"Dodge!"

It was clear that we were just playing with him. He went red in anger and stomped his foot.

"STOP IT!"

I laughed and obeyed. "Dark Pulse!"

A petrifying beam of swirling darkness launched out of Zorua's mouth and smashed into Charmeleon. A large explosion ensued. When the smoke cleared away, it was obvious that Charmeleon had fainted. The boy growled in rage and stormed over to me, hands balled into fists. When he reached me, he abruptly stopped and took a swing at me. I nimbly ducked under it and slammed my fist into his jaw with a powerful sucker punch. He went flying back into a tree trunk. Screams were heard.

I turned around. A girl had a hand clamped over her mouth. Everyone backed away from me. I stood tall over the unconscious boy's body, a thin stream of blood trickling out of his mouth. Within a few minutes the area was deserted. I kicked the boy's body once more and left him there. He would later recover.

I wish I could say that I was guilty for what I did and the pain and humiliation I caused him, but I was not. Quite contrary, I was happy.


End file.
